In what is my vehicle?, I invited participants to converse with me in a car, moving forward without a fixed destination, propelled by the car’s momentum. Yet every conversation follows me home to my room, the inevitable destination of every ride. There, I spent hours listening, writing, and breaking down the words that once moved with me. Then, I tore them into confetti, making them untraceable.

Fragments in my hands,
I let go,

stirred by air.

The residue of conversation
I once clung to,

now moves,
undriven.